


don't tell me our youth is running out

by orphan_account



Category: Raven Cycle - Maggie Stiefvater
Genre: Domestic Fluff, M/M, gay as fuck
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-30
Updated: 2015-06-30
Packaged: 2018-04-06 23:33:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,124
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4240905
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ronan and Gansey get cuddly on a winter night and something beautiful is created out of the heat of blankets and love.</p>
            </blockquote>





	don't tell me our youth is running out

**Author's Note:**

> summary still sounds suggestive... please i am a pure holy fic writer there is no nfsw in MY house. i got really sad over ronsey so i wrote up some really gay stuff! very unproofread hope u enjoy
> 
> this fic goes out to mana, the #1 ronsey stan i know :')
> 
> work title is from youth by foxes

Ronan slumps down onto the couch, deflating in one smooth, elegant motion. He takes up less space than one would think, his large presence preceding him by far. Gansey presses up against him, draping himself over Ronan like a bony blanket, all elbows and knuckles and shoulder blades. He was warm though, much warmer than Ronan, so he accepts the way Gansey’s edges fit against his own in lieu of the harsh winter cold.

“Ronaaaan.” Gansey murmurs, as Ronan’s hands find their way into his hair, combing through the soft brown locks. “Your hands are so cold,” he mutters, but it’s a half-assed complaint because how could Gansey ever not love the feeling of Ronan’s worn fingers massaging his scalp and tugging at his hair, how could he reject Ronan’s gentle touch because of some iciness that would soon pass anyway.

He’s right, and soon enough Ronan’s hands warm up and so follows the rest of Ronan’s body. They sit there for a while, Ronan against the back of the couch and Gansey against Ronan. Gansey murmurs to Ronan his great ideas for the future, how the search is coming along so well, how when this is all over he’s going to travel the world, searching for more, seeking out whatever lies beyond Virginia and it’s ley lines. He tells Ronan that he’s going to bring Ronan along, that they’re going to explore the world together and unearth all of it’s secrets.

Ronan doesn’t say anything, letting Gansey dream instead because the ability to dream while one is awake is something marvelous, truly incredible, and Ronan will never get enough of watching Gansey’s heart pour out in these small moments.

Gansey eventually stops talking, staring up at Ronan with a sleepy, comfortable gaze. Ronan looks down at him, wide awake and hyper aware of the way Gansey’s eyes flicker towards the kitchen then back to him, pleading.

“Wanna go make some hot chocolate for me?” Gansey asks with a small smile, and Ronan groans, because he just figured out that he was really comfortable right now, between their old couch and Gansey, between Gansey’s dreams and the silence of their apartment. He shuffles in his seat, dislodging Gansey from the places on Ronan’s body he had claimed as his own.

“You’re the one on top of me here.” Ronan says, and it’s meant to be sarcastic, they both know, but it comes out soft, almost a request. Gansey arduously moves off of Ronan, untangling their limbs and hearts from each other, until he flops down on the other side of the couch, shivering. Ronan makes a mental note to get hot chocolate as well as a blanket, because it looks like King Gansey had taken the couch as his throne, and wherever Gansey makes his home is where they’ll be staying for the rest of the night, tradition dictates. Maybe Ronan will grab a movie or two as well, if they’re going to spend the night on the couch. The memory of Gansey’s bony shoulders pressing into his chest pops up in his mind, and he adds some extra pillows to the retrieval list.

While waiting for the hot chocolate to heat in the microwave (if Gansey wanted stove-made hot chocolate, he could go make it himself), Ronan goes around gathering the items, feeling enough like a retrieval boy to throw some pillows over his shoulder at Gansey in spite, disturbing the half-slumbering king. There are some cries of protest, thankfully soon drowned out by the loud beeping of the microwave. Dumping the rest of his provisions onto Gansey, figuring he’d deal with the mumbled threats of having to sleep on the floor later, Ronan goes and gets the cups of hot chocolate, relishing in the heat they gave off.

He sets them down on their old coffee table, and takes in the sight of Gansey, pouting slightly, underneath the pile of blankets and pillows. It draws a half-smile from him, and he sits down rolling his eyes and dutifully starts to pull the blankets off of Gansey’s head.

“I was warm like that.” Gansey mutters with another pout, and Ronan is tempted to throw the blankets over Gansey’s head again. Instead, he leaves him be and Gansey picks up his hot chocolate, taking a sip and sighing blissfully. The look he shoots Ronan tells him that he’s been forgiven. Ronan takes his cup as well, letting the warmth run through him. He leans back onto the couch and places his cup down on the table just in time, because Gansey is back, melting on to Ronan’s body with a content smile.

“Enjoying yourself?” Ronan teases and Gansey nods. He stretches out, taking up more of Ronan, and Ronan is bountifully glad that he already put in a movie disc because he never wants to move from this position.

Some pillow arranging and blanket tucking later, the T.V. screen flickers to life with Pacific Rim. Ronan claims the remote, so Gansey settles for having Ronan. He smiles sleepily at Ronan, who is intently paying attention to Raleigh’s opening monologue, and he thinks of the same thing that Ronan did earlier while watching him, that it’s a truly incredible thing to watch somebody lose themselves in what they love and that the ability to dream while one’s awake, even if it’s through a movie, is something Gansey will never get tired of watching.

Ronan eventually realizes that Gansey isn’t paying attention and he tries to be annoyed, but in the end is bested by Gansey’s soft smiles and imploring looks. He turns down the volume, letting it run in the background. Gansey’s hand finds one of Ronan’s and their fingers interlace as Ronan’s other hand returns to playing with Gansey’s hair. Their hot chocolate and movie long forgotten, they just sit there, basking in the other’s company.

Soon Ronan breaks the silence, asking Gansey about the future, about his dreams and plans and after Gansey gushes he returns the question, asking Ronan about his movies and their meanings. They sit and talk, sometimes announcing loudly to the empty house, sometimes whispering, hushed voices and huddled hearts.

They want to stay in that little moment forever, with snow falling in waves outside and people falling in love inside, with hearts traced on skin with idle fingers, with whispered promises and shouted pledges. In that little moment, it felt like the heat generated by the two nestled together could take over the world and banish the winter at their doorsteps, even if it only extended a metre or two around them.

They fall asleep to the sound of the birds chirping in the early morning, as the first slivers of sun greet them from their window.


End file.
